Just when we thought our glamping couldn’t get any better, our Sheppard’s hut was located amongst a field of llamas of course. Armed with a jar of “llama mix”, we went over to the fence to make friends with our South American amigos (after all, they had to deal with the smoke alarm going off every 5 minutes and our sailor cursing of the dreaded storm kettle). I’d heard that they spit but I was unprepared for the deluge of spitting and passing wind that ensued. No amount of reasoning in poor/broken Spanish seemed to help, so we retreated back to our little hut to roast marshmallows and drink more red wine. The llamas won that round but we’ll get the next.
All images via Wishful Thinking